


burn until your heart melts

by staringatstars



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Desolation!Tim, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatstars/pseuds/staringatstars
Summary: Tim remembers dying.It doesn't stop him from waking up with his bed on fire and Danny frantically trying to put him out with an extinguisher.
Relationships: Danny Stoker & Tim Stoker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 249





	burn until your heart melts

Tim remembers dying. 

It didn’t hurt - there wasn’t enough time for that - but the last thing he heard before shucking this mortal coil was the screech of fury from Nikola Orsinov when the flames roared towards them with a force that would tear their mannequin body apart, and all he’d felt was satisfaction. 

He’d seen the fire rushing in on them from all sides too, but had been too focused on Orsinov’s featureless plastic face to care. Could a mannequin express rage? Fear? It was all Tim had wanted to know since the Stranger had ripped Danny’s skin from his body like a bad suit, and now he did. 

It didn’t matter if his sacrifice saved the world from the Unknowing. Sure, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the ritual succeeding, and for as much as he and Jon butted heads, he didn’t want the guy to _die._ It was just that, in that moment, with the detonator in his hand and his finger on the button, forcing Orsinov to understand what Danny must have felt - the helplessness of an impending death they could do nothing to stop - mattered more than anything else in the world. 

He’d wanted to destroy them.

He’d wanted them to _burn._

And if he had to burn to make that happen, then it was a price he would pay. Gladly. 

Dying hadn’t hurt. There hadn’t been enough time for that.

Waking up, on the other hand… that hurts more than anything Tim has ever experienced. The screams that rip through him tear at his throat, but there is no pain greater than another. They blend. He does not think, _my throat, my chest, my hands. _He is a thoughtless creature, consumed by agony, and so he does not feel the sheets wrapped around his legs, the pillow under his head, or hear his brother shouting his name.__

____

Even if he had, he wouldn’t have believed it. 

____

The sheets blacken and smoke where they touch his flesh, curling away with acrid fumes billowing from the fabric melting like candle wax. For what feels like an eternity, Tim has no idea who he is or who he has been, only that he needs to end. To stop. 

____

Then there’s a rushing sound, like gas leaving a canister, and his burning, dying flesh is freezing, coated in something that stings and it’s _wrong, wrong, wrong._

____

The fire in his veins is sluggish now, though no less hungry. It will finish what it started.

____

For now, though, it will wait, because Danny is staring down at Tim with an extinguisher clutched in a white-knuckled death grip and his eyes are so wide there’s a complete circle of white around the iris. They are very clearly, very obviously _not_ made of glass.

____

“You were on fire,” Danny mutters like he can barely believe what he’s saying, and Tim’s focusing on his clothes. The outfit’s the same one he’d been wearing the night he’d crashed on Tim’s couch a lifetime ago, exhausted and covered in dust from the urban ruins he’d been exploring.

____

He must have already run into The Stranger by that time. Already been Marked.

____

As he considers this, the carbon dioxide foam clinging to Tim's braids and lashes starts to slough off. He’d pull the sheets over his head, shut this fake Danny out until he either gave up or killed him, but the gaping, smoldering hole in the bedding won’t give him even that much.

____

Exhausted down to his bones and empty, Tim fixes his dull gaze on the ceiling.

____

“You died,” he mutters, resigned. “I saw Grimaldi rip the skin off of you.” He's thinking of Sasha, and all the thousands of terrible ways this could be a trick. 

____

“It must’ve been a nightmare. I’m fine, Tim.” Danny folds his arms over his chest, mouth tugged into a pensive frown. “You’re the one going off like a molotov cocktail in your sleep.”

____

Tim barely hears him. “But how do I _know_ that?” He can't. For once, he wishes he had Jon’s creepy Knowing powers. Unfortunately, if he forgoes all rational thought and lets himself believe for even a millisecond that time travel might actually be real, then the Beholding isn’t the Power he serves.

____

Not anymore.

____

Danny reaches for him, comforting words poised on the tip of his tongue, but Tim jerks away from his touch, rasping out, “Don’t touch me,” with a voice that makes it sound like he’s been shouting into the dark for hours. Briefly, Danny looks hurt - Tim’s heart wrenches at the sight - but the expression quickly smoothes over as professionalism and experience take over. 

____

Ignoring Tim’s yelp of protest, he tears the tattered remains of the sheets off the bed, then wraps them into a ball and sets them aside with the extinguisher. Part of Tim is tempted to tell him to hold on to the extinguisher, since the chances of him setting something else on fire are getting higher by the minute. Instead, he keeps his mouth clamped shut and his hands to himself.

____

Sawdust is extremely flammable, after all. And even if it just _looks_ like Danny, Tim doesn’t think he could survive watching him die a second time.

____

To be honest, he’s still not entirely sure he survived it the first time. 

____

Danny settles on the floor like he’s going to be there for a while, then waits until Tim glances at him - he has to make sure Danny’s still there, that he hasn’t disappeared - and then he begins, his tone soft and fond with memory, “When we were kids you and I climbed a tree together. You tried to tell me that the branches weren’t thick enough to hold both of us but I wouldn’t listen. So I climbed out and the branch broke and... ”

____

It’s like he’s trying to coax recollection back to the surface, and in a way he is. When was the last time Tim thought of something that wasn’t rife with terror and grief?

____

He’s lost so much and gotten so little in return that the thought that this might somehow be real scares him more than anything, and yet, “You broke your leg.” The words come out clumsy, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth.

____

Shoulders slumping, Danny sighs in relief. “I definitely did.” A muted chuckle escapes. “And if I remember right, _you_ were the one who wouldn’t stop crying.”

____

Tim can tell that he’s ready to fall back into their old dynamic, but for as much as he’d like to, he’s not ready. He’s spent too long mourning his little brother and seeking revenge to let himself enjoy being with him now, and isn’t that a tragedy?

____

“Talk about something else.”

____

Danny fills the dead air with descriptions of the cities and ruins he’s explored. He talks about where he’d like to go if he has the time, the places he’d love to see again, and his team members. There’s something so mournful about the way he describes their quirks that Tim is certain Danny expects he’ll never see them again. Whether that’s because he’s Marked by the Stranger or because his teammates have already been taken is something Tim doesn’t know and doesn’t want to ask.

____

This has been such a nice reunion thus far, but it’s hard to get into the spirit of it when Tim is dead certain that if he lets Danny out of his sight for a second, Grimaldi will snatch him up. And if that happens, well, Tim already knows what he’s going to do.

____

He has a new God to feed, after all.

____

He hopes it likes plastic.

____

“I’m glad I managed to put you out before the fire burned you,” Danny is saying, his hands dutifully by his sides, though he keeps glancing at Tim like he’s waiting for permission to touch him.

____

Tim scoffs. “Funny that.”

____

It occurs to him that he could burn this apartment down without any effort whatsoever, could set Danny alight like a candle wick, except he’s not going to do any of that. It doesn’t matter why. The chaos within him is screaming to be let out - he hears its call just as Danny hears the call of the circus - and he tells it to wait.

____

Danny can’t resist the call of the Stranger forever. Every now and then, Danny’s voice will fade and his eyes will go unfocused and glassy. He snaps himself out of it when Tim gets his attention, but it’s taking more time to get him back.

____

Eventually, he’s going to stand up, grab his coat, and walk out the door. Never to be seen again.

____

It’s happened before.

____

This time, though, he’s not going to go alone. Tim feels his blood itching to combust, the flames growing hotter underneath his skin. The temperature in the apartment has risen to the point where Danny is sweating and pulling at his collar, which is a clear enough sign that both of them are running out of time.

____

“I’ll go with you,” Tim says when Danny stands to fetch his coat. He’s already swinging his legs onto the floor, wincing at the char marks spreading out from underneath his feet as he walks towards the door.

____

Danny swallows, pale and shaking as though struck with fever, “You don’t have to, Tim. You shouldn’t--”

____

Before he can finish, Tim’s palm ignites. He rotates it with mild interest as Danny watches the scene with mounting horror. He moves to get the extinguisher, only for Tim to hold him back so that he can see that though his hand is wreathed in flames it isn’t burning. It doesn’t hurt. If anything, Tim would almost describe the fire licking his skin as… affectionate?

____

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, Danny.”

____

_What happened to you?_ Danny doesn’t ask but Tim can see it written all over his face. Unfortunately, the thought of answering questions makes him physically ill, so he squeezes his eyes shut to block out the sight.

____

_I died,_ Tim doesn’t say. _You died._

_____ _

When he opens his eyes again, Danny’s standing beside him at the door. He’s wearing his backpack and a pair of plaid oven mitts. It’s the last part that throws Tim for a loop.

_____ _

“Danny?”

_____ _

“Hm?”

_____ _

“Why are you wearing oven mitts?” A grin lighting up his face as though he’s pleased Tim noticed the new addition to his wardrobe, Danny waves his arms, showing off the floppy mitts with pride.

_____ _

“Even if you take the tube into account, it’s a long way from here to Grimaldi’s circus. And if it’s all the same to you,” with one of his covered hands, he gave Tim’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “I’d rather look a little silly than spend one more minute letting you believe that there’s any possible way you would ever hurt me." He gave a sheepish shrug. "I mean, obviously I'm going to take some precautions - I saw what you did to your bed - but I trust you, Tim. Whatever's going on with you, we'll figure it out.”

_____ _

“You really shouldn’t trust me, Danny. I'm a human time bomb.” He snorts. "With a very flexible definition of human."

_____ _

“I do.”

_____ _

Tim barks out a harsh, mirthless laugh. “Then you’re an idiot.”

_____ _

Unfazed, Danny bumps his shoulder with a passable attempt at a fist. “Yet another unmistakable sign that we’re related.”

_____ _

When he steps out into the morning sun, his breath steaming in the cool air, Tim watches from inside, memorizing the way the light hits his skin, the way his arms swing when he stands still, the hunger in his gaze as he soaks up every sound and sight and color of the city.

_____ _

The Stranger had Marked him, but if there was no circus, there would be nobody left to collect. Problem solved. And as for the rest? 

_____ _

He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

_____ _

Stepping out onto the pavement, Tim swings an arm around his brother’s shoulders, careful not to touch his skin. “Let’s go see if the Great Grimaldi’s in town, shall we?”

_____ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
